Sleep story · warm, winter
A fire dying down (a sleep story), when you are somewhere noisy — for waking too early
The last hour of a fire, when it stops being a fire and becomes warmth.
Lights off. Press begin and let the story read itself to you, at the pace of sleep.
Screen on or off — we suggest dimming it, or simply closing your eyes after the first paragraph.
The story, in full
The fire will be out in half an hour and nobody needs to watch it happen. The ash in the grate is deep and soft and grey at the edges. The logs beside the fireplace are down to the last two.
The heat reaches about a metre from the fire and stops. The room has gone darker than you noticed, and the light is all low and orange. There is a blanket over your legs that you did not consciously arrange.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.
Your fingers can stop doing anything at all. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
There is a smell of woodsmoke in the room that will still be there tomorrow. The window is black, and the glass is cold if you touch it.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part.
If a worry shows up, name it quietly and let it sit beside you. Your mind will leave about a hundred times. Come back about a hundred times.
Let your calves spread out and flatten. Feel your cheeks let go.
Stay. Sleep.
Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. Just the breath. Nothing here needs following closely.
Noise is fine. You are not trying to hear anything subtle.
Let everything get quiet, including this.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for warm, winter.
If this story does not settle you, try A kitchen late at night — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are at home and cannot settle — for a night when you do not want to think, A fire dying down (a sleep story), when you only have a few minutes — for the hours after a late shift or A boat at anchor, when the weather has kept you inside — for an overtired night.